Landon
I had never been a big fan of parties, especially the ones thrown in my name, so even while I stood here, I was already thinking about when it was going to end.
Greene stood beside me, a glass of champagne in her hand, her blonde hair twisted up in that deliberately messy way that somehow made women look like they hadn’t tried at all.
We were standing near the bar area of BlackLine’s brand-new HQ, surrounded by a lot of people who laughed too loud and gestured their hands as they spoke, holding wine glasses like they had just been handed the cure to boredom.
The music was low but you could still hear it, the kind of beat that made conversation easy without having to yell over it, but still filled the empty air.
From where I stood, I could see Mendoza across the room, talking
